...in the words of Cole Porter. In my words - I feel hotter than the sun. By no insubstantial degree (excuse the pun) as well. The last few days have been absolutely baking here, and although yesterday I stayed out of the heatwave for the main part, as I was holed up in a warm office, today I stupidly decided to go and get some sun.

Having the day off, and a new few books having arrived in the post (Redmon O'Hanlon's Congo Journey and Tom Sharpe's Porterhouse Blue, since you asked) I decided to grab some rays. The British sun, I reasoned, might strut around the midday zenith, promising famine and desiccated ground, but in reality, its bark is worse than its bite. How wrong I was. To carry on the imagery, and also to quote another brilliant song writer, today it was proven that only 'mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.' I now am the proud owner of some rather overdone torso, and undeniably pinky thighs. I hope they settle down into tan. The chastising sting of the shower on my over-ripened skin suggests that is wishful thinking. However, burnt sections aside, I still managed to make the most of the freakishly good weather by enjoying Pimms and a bbq outside with the family. All very civilised, and, more to the point, all very enjoyable. Spoke to Anna on Skype, which was, as always, good, but close enough to reality to remind you of the deficiencies of talking to someone online only.

Also, I was considering changing the skin of this blog. Maybe to something with comments. It would certainly be nice to have some feedback from that chap in Moscow for example, see what he thought of the site. Also, although I found the yellow kind of interesting, now I find it just...obscenely yellow. You can have too much of a good thing, and sadly I think that has turned out to be the case with everyone's least favourite primary colour.

Labels: reading, weather

"The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale, cold light of reason, is so infinitesimally small, the dark regions of human ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring so immeasurably vast, that imagination is feign to step up to the borderline and send the warm, richly colored beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness ; and so, peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own figure for real beings moving in the abyss.

Sir James George FrazerThe Golden Bough

April 2010 / May 2010 / June 2010 / July 2010 / August 2010 / September 2010 / February 2011 / April 2011 / August 2011 / September 2011 /

From Russia, with love / Edin-burrr. / おくりびと / HEY / A long time coming / Don't get excited. / Laurels / ואלס עם באשיר / Misc. stuff / Just to say. /

The title of this blog comes from a poem by Coleridge, A Wish: Wriiten in Jesus Wood, Feb. 10th, 1792, Plus most blogs are moans anyway. Including this one. lol manuscripts

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I'm a 23 year-old student in London Cambridge London, studying English Literature Law. It's hard to really think of anything truly personal I can put here that might give you some idea of who I am, so I will just tell you that my favourite Shakespeare play is Richard II, my favourite chocolate bar is Snickers, and I have a bit of a thing for instant coffee, especially if someone else makes it for me.

I'm interested in Renaissance Literature, Higher Education policy, and libraries.
I'm completely in love with a Scottish girl.